RoadTrip
by sami.60
Summary: National Enquirer gets a tip- what are the wolves up to now?...hmmm One-shot!


**Author's Note:** While riding in a van one day on the return trip from Mexico...a friend of mine and I played this game where we go back and forth and write a story...this was simply one of the many fruits of our labors. Half the credit goes to her, so if you don't like it, save some rotten fruit to throw at her as well!

**Disclaimer:** Only in my dreams do I own Twilght or anything Twilight related...Ah and what wonderful dreams they are, filled with sparkly people, furry people, and really hot villains...*sigh*

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If you've ever taken werewolves on a road trip, you'll know that it's no picnic. Why I ever thought it would be a good idea to take the entire Quileute pack on a two-day (one way) trip to San Diego, I don't know, except that I suspect I was under the influence of the very strong paint thinner Quil was using to strip the varnish off his mom's old bureau. One minute I'm sitting in his garage, telling knock-knock jokes, and the next, we're looking up van rental agencies.

I'd never have guessed why they wanted so badly to go to San Diego in the first place. They all insisted on that one location when I suggested another, closer destination.

We'd already had to stop numerous times because of Jerky and Coke shortages. And they never seemed to sleep more than five minutes at a time. If one of them managed to fall asleep, he'd wake up the second another dropped. Jared and Seth kept blaring rap music from my stereo, and if Embry didn't stop slobbering on my window, he was going to provide brand new fur lining for my leather car seats. "Embry, if you want to stick your head out the window, just do it already!" I finally snapped. He looked embarrassed, but he didn't last five minutes before cranking down the window and sticking his head out as far as he could without actually sticking his head into the next lane.

The next thing I knew, Paul and Jacob started wrestling over Jacob's game boy. The van rocked up on two wheels as they threw their weight to one side.

"Gah! Boys sit down right now or I swear I'll call all of your mothers and Sam!" They quieted down almost immediately. I wasn't sure who they were more afraid of, their respective maternal figures, or Sam Uley, their pack leader. I had thrown in both threats because of my unsurity, and was very grateful for its success.

Inwardly I sighed because for the first time in two hours there was absolute quiet in the van. There was absolute silence- I could barely hear them breathing! - for about five seconds.

"Embry's touching me," Quil tattled.

"You're on my side of the seat!"

"No I'm not!"

"Yes you are!"

"Am not!"

"Are."

"Not."

"Ok, if you don't get off my side, I'm going to touch you again."

"Oh yeah?"

This was followed by the sound of Embry's fist punching Paul's arm. The van started rocking again, and I knew a phase disaster was imminent. Turning onto an exit ramp at the last second, I screeched into a Pizza Hut parking lot and hit the brakes.

"All right," I snarled, turning around in my seat. I guess I sounded pretty scary, because they all froze and stared at me.

For a moment I reveled in the power rush; then I narrowed my eyes on the three most prominent troublemakers. "If any of you make one more peep, you're running the rest of the way to San Diego! Got it?!?!"

They all vigorously nodded their heads at me and I smiled, though it probably looked like more of a grimace. "Good dogs." I chuckled at their outraged faces, though to their credit they didn't say a word at my use of the derogatory term.

I shook my head as I pulled back onto the freeway. "Wolves." I grumbled, and it sounded like a curse.

After twenty minutes of their silence I began to feel slightly guilty- though I'd never let them know that- and I decided to pull over to get more Beef Jerky.

"OK guys, Jerky break!"

They joyfully bounded out of the car and ran for the field that bordered the gas station lot. I hoped they would run off some of their energy before they got back in the car. Not likely, but I could dream. I picked up a jumbo pack of extra spicy for each of them and a newspaper for me.

After paying, I walked back outside to call the boys, and I caught Paul lifting his leg next to the van's rear wheel. "Paul!" I shrieked. "Bad dog!" and I smacked him with my newspaper.

He shot me a disgruntled look and walked to a rusting old yellow orange pickup reminiscent of Bella's old heap, lifted his leg, and marked his territory. _Such a mutt_, I thought, but did not bother correcting him. All I could do was hope that no one saw.

I climbed into the 15 passenger van and unfolded my newspaper. It was then I realized that the person that stocked them had mislabeled the papers. I had snagged a copy National Enquirer. And of course, OF COURSE, the lead story was about werewolves.

I decided to skim through it just for laughs. The story claimed that there was a nationwide network of werewolves. They were infiltrating the country by buying up burger chain franchises.

I showed the guys the story when they piled into the van, and to my surprise they all started slapping Embry on the back.

I raised an eyebrow at their behavior, curious and yet dreading the answer to my silent query. At my look, they all looked down; though I could see Quil's unrepentant stare aimed at his lap and the laughs that Jacob and Embry were unable to hide.

"_Boys?_" I asked, doing my best to hide my amusement. The boys were in their late teens and yet they acted like five year olds. It was endearing to say the least.

"Oh come on, Sam!" Leah said to me. I had almost forgotten she was in the car with us. "Even I had to admit the plan was slightly amusing."

This did not improve my outlook on the situation, nor did it improve my mood. "What plan, exactly, would that be, my dear?"

The boys all glared daggers at her for giving away that little information, but she ignored them all. "The boys sent in a false claim to the National Enquirer, a claim that was followed up by an interview which was used in the story you just read. It was Embry's original idea, and his was the name they all gave."

"That still doesn't explain why we're going to San Diego."

"The boys decided to give the reporters something they could really use. That's why we're going all the way up there. The boys wanted to see a man about buying one."

"Do you actually intend to purchase one or are you just wasting my time and money?"

"We will if he'll sell it to us. And besides, it's not like you had anything of value to do with you time except sit at home and wrap presents for all of us." This came from Jacob, who was quickly becoming my least favorite werewolf.

"Alright boys, well I would have preferred you tell me earlier about all this but I suppose I wouldn't have agreed. I'll make you a deal. If we can get the rest of the way with a break every two hours at most, I'll take you. If you can't last that long, I'll drop you off and you can explain to Sam why you won't be making it back home for a while. Deal? And no more back talk from you, mister." They nodded and as we got back onto the freeway, I noticed that the boys seemed, if not calmer, slightly less exuberant.

The rest of the trip was uneventful, for the most part. We did have a slight incident where the boys managed to almost make me swerve off the road… but it was three hours after our little heart-to-heart, and so I did not make them get out. I would've missed their company anyways. Mostly we sang old 70's songs and the boys and Leah played card games in the back seat. We found that Jared liked to sing, so when certain songs came on the radio, he would sing his solo and some of the boys would tease him. My personal favorite was when he burst out with "_You spin my head right round, right round when you go down, when you go down, down…_"

As we leave the offices of one of the more prominent firms in San Diego, I wince as I remember the amount of money my boys used as a down payment for a franchise publically accused of being owned by werewolves. A down payment so large it would have paid off the car I'd left back home in Washington. I reflect that sometimes, reality is much stranger than fiction.


End file.
